


New Starts, Old Ends

by Slytheringirle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (aw c’mn, F/M, Ginny visits the Potters’ grave, Ginny/Harry centeric, I didn’t even go over it lmao, Mention of dead characters, No Beta, One-Shot, We Die Like Men, ain’t?), but it’s not rlly important, but the outcome is nice, but this ‘fun’ tore my heart out lmao, bye bye, canonical character deaths, have fun, immortality is kinda cute, it’s painful and all, lady dark does kinda have a ring to it, maybe I’ll be the next dark lord, maybe it’s like a Horcrux, ok this is getting long lol, or maybe not, she’s rlly sweet, they’re engaged, this is just for fun lol, u gotta admit, we all kinda relate to old volley moldy, with the fic or nod idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytheringirle/pseuds/Slytheringirle
Summary: “I want to visit your parents’ grave,” continued Ginny, not backing down. “Pay my respects.”.Ginny asks Harry to take her to Godric Hollow’s cemetery to visit the will be parents in law she’ll never meet. (Follow her as she spills her heart to the dead Mr. and Mrs.Potter)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	New Starts, Old Ends

“Harry?”

Ginny’s voice was soft, almost like a hum in the vicinity of their living room. “Hm?”

“I was thinking,” she said, leaning over the couch so that her elbows rested just beside his thigh, “about going to Godric’s Hollow.”

“What?” He cried, nearly dropping the book he was reading. Whatever he thought she was going to say, that wasn’t it.

“I want to visit your parents’ grave,” continued Ginny, not backing down. “Pay my respects.”

Harry loved Ginny to the moon and back, he was ready to lay down the world for her. But this? “Gin, I’ve only been to their grave once,” he said -and that was in the midst of a raging war. “And I don’t think -er- I can go back by myself. Ourselves. We’ll get lost.”

Ginny looked at him unbelievingly. He offered her a smile.

“Fine,” she said, sitting upright and throwing her arms up in exasperation. “I’ll just ask Hermione to take me.”

“What do you even want to go for?”

“I already told you, to pay my respects.”

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “We can go,” he said slowly. “But you’ll have to go into the graveyard by yourself.” He didn’t think he could bear seeing the grave again.

“Thank you,” said Ginny softly. “I know it’s hard for you and I appreciate it more than you think.”

He nodded once, and that was that.

Two days later, Ginny came back from her Three Broomsticks shift with a bouquet of flowers in hand. It was a beautiful mix of white roses and lilies, wrapped by a piece of rose gold silk.

“Ginny, it’s beautiful.” He said. “What’s it for?”

She smiled. “Your parents.”

‘Well, it more than you got them,’ said a nasty voice in his head, and he brushed it off. Not getting them anything had been a shit move on his part, but he had been living in a tent for over six weeks. Could he really be blamed?  
“They’re beautiful,” he repeated. “Do you want to go today?”

“If you want to,” replied Ginny in a small voice as she hid her face behind the bouquet - she was blushing.

“I want to,” said Harry, and reached to take the flowers from her. “We can go after dinner,” he said. “And I’ll put them in a vase for the time being.”

Ginny nodded. “I’ll start making dinner then.” And went to the kitchen.

Harry turned and made his way to the hallway, where he knew an empty vase sat. It was a simple thing, really. He and Ginny had picked it just to add something to the house, to make it theirs. He placed the flowers in the vase and when he was about to leave, a flutter of movement caught his eyes. He turned to it for a better view, and saw with a clench it was the picture of his parents he’d kept on his nightstand during his Hogwarts years. His dad was spinning his mother the same way he’d always done, and she laughed that same laugh.

“Hey mum,” he said softly. “Dad.”

He wished he’d known them, or atleast stories about them, but all he had were the snippets he’d gathered from his teachers and Sirius and Remus. He also wished he’d had more time with the last to, if only to know his parents more. Ah, but what’s life without a little misery? “Oh shut up,” he muttered.

Behind their picture, on a wall, was another photo of Fred and George, laughing as they made faces at an infant in a cradle, probably Ginny. It was twisted, he knew, but there was some sort of tranquility in knowing that he wasn’t the only one suffering, that there were others like him. Beside their picture was another of Remus and Tonks, taken on their wedding day. It wasn’t unlike the one he had of his parents, but they didn’t have a best man. Their deaths were perhaps one of the most painful, not only had they just gotten married, but Teddy hadn’t even been a year old.

Wiping the tear trickling down his cheek, Harry moved on to the other picture. It was one of the Order of the Phoenix, the new Order of the Phoenix. Mr. and Mrs. Weasely were standing in the middle, surrounded by the other beaming members: Bill, Charlie, Moody, Dumbledore, Tonks, Remus and… Sirius. There were more, ofcourse, but these were the dearest to him, and Sirius. This was one of the few pictures he had of his godfather, he supposed twelve years in Azkaban and two on the run had that effect but it didn’t stop him from wishing he had more. “I miss you,” he said to the smiling Sirius. “I’m sorry I walked you to a trap.”

He then forced himself to leave, not wanting to have a complete breakdown in the corridor. It was a lane of memories, as Ginny had once said. It was surrounded by the people that had touched them in life, that left something in the world. When they first moved in here, right after Ginny’s seventeenth birthday, these photos were one of the first things they’d brought. After they were done with family and the Order’s photos, they’d hung that of their friends. Like Lavender Brown, who’d lost her life to a werewolf, Colin Creevey, who’d fought despite being underage and Luna Lovegood, the misunderstood treasure of Ravenclaw. Of course there were others too, people they shared simple memories with like Semaus and Dean, Parvati and Hannah Abott, heck, even one with Draco Malfoy. He had been an obnoxious bully, Harry mused, but they’d reached an understanding after the war. He had been a mere boy with the threat of his family handing above his head just like Harry had the prophecy. One might even call them friends. There were also photos of the Gryffindor Quidditch teams over the years: the golden third year, the disastrous fifth year and of course their sixth year. It had been a year of many starts, but it was nice in its own way he supposed. As he passed a picture of himself, Ron and Hermione, Harry faced the other photos for the last time, a bittersweet smile on his face. “Thank you for everything,” he said, and noxed the candles.

The sun had long since set when there was a popping sound in Godric’s Hollow, and two coat clad figures appeared. One was that of a female, he long fiery hair cutting like a knife in the darkness and she was carrying a bouquet of flowers. Beside her was a man wrapped nose deep in a scarf, his hands buried in said scarf.

“The graveyard is this way,” said Harry, nodding ahead. “Just continue walking and you’ll see it. The- their grave is third to last on the sixth row. I’ll wait.”

Ginny looked at him sadly, “are you sure Harry?”

He nodded without looking at her. He felt her cast another look before walking away. Once he was sure she was out of sight, Harry raised his head and walked around. He was looking for the monument he saw with Hermione almost two years ago, at least he’ll still be able to pay his respects.

He had to look a bit, but then he found it. It was glamoured to look like a war monument stating the names of the fallen, but wizards were able to see its true form - a statue of a young woman and a man holding a laughing baby: James and Lily Potter.

And here he was yet again, facing the parents that had given him their lives empty handed. “Hey mum,” he said. ‘Dad.”

“I know it’s been a while, but… Can you even hear me? From the other side, I mean. Remus said he was sorry he’ll never get to know his son in the Forest last year so I guess not but-“ His voice broke, and he tried his best to muffle his sobs. They’d given him everything and here he was trying to hide his grief.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, and walked away, to the rows of houses where he knew his own was hidden.

The gate of Godric’s Hollow cemetery creaked as Ginny opened it, slowly entering and closing it behind her with another creak. She felt the twigs snap beneath her feet but didn’t any attention to them, her eyes were scanning the tombstones, setting apart the rows and columns. Third to last on the sixth row Harry had said. Right, she could do this.

As she passed the various tombstones, she couldn’t help but pity herself for her current life. It was amazing and she loved it, loved Harry and her family and friends. Even her shitty paying job. But this, visiting graveyard and the dead -it has become sort of a routine for her. First there was Fred’s, she thought with a twist in her heart, then the Lupins’ and oh god Snape. She’d hated him as a teacher, but he was a man trying to right his mistakes and she respected him for that.

In her seventh year at Hogwarts, after the war, teachers and students alike would stop mid sentence and take a moment to remember the fallen. It was strange for sure, but it was when they passingly mention that it hurt the most, the realisation that they were really gone and won’t be there to make more memories.

She gently wiped her cheeks and- There it was, the grave. She only knew it was it thank to the coordinates, but as she got closer the writing became clear:

JAMES POTTER LILY POTTER

Born 27 March 1960 Born 30 January 1960

Died 31 October 1981 Died 31 October 1981

  
_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” she said softly, getting on her knees. She placed the flowers in the middle of the grave, probably between them. “I’m Ginny Weasley. Harry’s fiancée.”

This was them, the Potters. The Wizarding World’s saviours. Harry’s parents. Tears were rolling freely down her face and she didn’t bother to wipe them, what was the point?

“Harry didn’t want to come today,” she forced herself to continue. “But I insisted, told him I wanted to pay my respects.” She took a shaky breath. “But it’s more than that. I wanted to talk to you about Harry. Your son is amazing, Mr. and Mrs.Potter -in every aspect. Of course you probably know all about his Hogwarts adventures, or the major ones at least. He told me that he talked to you in the Forbidden Forest. But I’m here to tell you about something else, about other amazing traits Harry has. His loyalty, his Quidditch talent and dear Merlin his cheesiness.”

She set on to tell them all about their Quidditch matches, his visits over the summer holidays, their first date and his proposal. “He prepared lunch - he’s an amazing cook, did you know?- and took me on a picnic. After we were stuffed and laughing our butts off over the slightest things, he leaned an arm - we were lying on the blanket- and took out a ring. And Mrs.Potter -she took another shaky breath here-, he delivered the most beautiful speech I’ve ever heard. He said- he said ‘I don’t know how dad proposed to my mum, or if even there is a Potter family ring, but I know that he loved her, and that’s as good as it gets. If you accept this ring, Ginevra Weasley, promise you’ll love me to the very end, weather that be five or fifty years from now.’ I know it sounds like I overplayed it, but it was wonderful at the moment Mrs. Potter. Because that’s what your son is - wonderful.”

She then turned her head to the other end of the grave, and bowed her head a bit. “Thank you for giving him to me, I promise to take care of him.” She then dissolved into sobs there, letting grief over these undoubtedly wonderful people and million others that were lost.

“C’mn Gin,” Said a voice behind her. She startled, and turned around to see Harry crouching down beside her, a sad smile on his face. “Let’s go home.”

Her lips parted, willing her to say something, but she just closed them and nodded. With Harry’s help, she got to her feet and together they walked towards the cemetery’s gate. Just before they were out of the grave’s sight, she turned around and gave a last bow in it’s direction. “Rest in peace, Mr. and Mrs.Potter.”

And if, as the kissing gate swung shut behind the two figures, a silhouette of a similar man and woman was spotted watching over the young couple, then it was just the wind.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are appreciated! (No criticism of any kind please.)


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